The clouds of introspection, searching for the answers
What makes the author substance, what makes the readers tic
Can I deliver thoughts in clever fashion, do I bear the traits of
That special seed, sprouting the gorgeous flower

I start, I hesitate, i start anew poetic march
Unknown destination, the hypocrite sun deceiving me
First shining glory on the pages, later ominously casting shadows
Even throwing cosmic boulders on

The writer have the special talent
The responsibility to put the observations into words
See what unseen under the layers of the human bondage
Promote the knowledge, tickle the brain, arising the conscience
Do I have one?

by Margaret Gudkov
art by Y. Kurbanov